


Say “Please”

by Hella_Queer



Category: Free!, Free! Eternal Summer - Fandom
Genre: Begging, Cock Cages, Kinktober 2017, M/M, Teasing, sex demon au, sex demon magic, sourin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-09 03:00:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12267504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hella_Queer/pseuds/Hella_Queer
Summary: “You, Matsuoka Rin, from right now until midnight tonight, must endure this,” a hand cups the cage through his pants before disappearing, “as well as whatever else I decide to give you.”





	Say “Please”

**Author's Note:**

> Kinktober #4: Begging (Sourin)
> 
>  
> 
> This is a to-be-experienced role play idea me and my Rin have.  
> What you need to know: Sousuke visited Rin in his dream where he was dream arguing with his ex-boyfriend. Sousuke changed the dream, they had dream sex, and the cycle has evolved into what you're about to read now. And he hasn't given Rin the D irl because of Plot Reasons. Sick of me saying the word dream? Good. Have fun!

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“If you can last through a whole day of teasing, I'll take the cage off.”

Rin has long since stopped questioning how crazy his life has become. Waking up in bed next to a demon has become the new normal, and incorporating sex into every aspect of his life that doesn't involve his mom or his sister has slipped into the realm of predictability. So when he's presented with a bright pink cock cage along with his morning cup of coffee, he does little more than yawn. 

“Aren't these things supposed to _prevent_ teasing?” Hard plastic, but he doesn't think it’ll hurt. Annoying and frustrating, yes, but nothing they've done so far has been painful for the sake of being painful, so he's not worried. 

Work starts in an hour but Rin doesn't rush. He eats his breakfast—eggs and bacon and toast, because along with slipping into dreams and locked apartments, demons are also skilled cooks—and showers through three of his favorite songs. When he steps out of the bathroom his uniform is laid out on his bed, the cage sitting on top of his pants. 

“I already said I'll do your dumb challenge,” he says as he dries off. “Like, I know you get energy from my...whatever, but this is a _little_ desperate don't you think?” 

Sousuke has always been weird, even for a previously only thought of as fictional hell spawn. (Or wherever his shadow realm is located, Wonderland or something). But today he's all creepily quiet, and he won't stop _staring_ at him. Which is somewhat his usual behavior, but only when Rin is out in public and the tall, intimidating man-like creature is too anxious to approach him and his human friends. 

Right now for instance; Sousuke walks to stand in front of him and picks up the cage, weighs it in his hand like he's unfamiliar with it. 

“However,” he says, continues as if his first sentence wasn't almost an hour ago. Is he immune to time now, too? “If you can't last, if you ask to have it removed, you'll be wearing it for the next month.” 

Rin drops his belt, the sound of the buckle hitting the floor seems to echo through the entire apartment. 

“Fuck you. No way.” 

As if that's the response he was hoping for, Sousuke grins, gleaming white teeth and all. A gust of wind lifts up Rin’s hair as he's circled too fast for his eyes to see anything but a blur, and suddenly Sousuke is behind him, an arm around his chest. 

“What happened to “I can handle anything”? Where's that fighting spirit from a few months ago, huh?” He noses into his neck, warm breath sending chills over Rin’s body. 

“Having sex with you in my dreams is not the same as giving up control of my dick.” He pulls away to get dressed, starting with his bottoms, ignoring the other presence in the room entirely. He's working double today, so he puts his tennis shoes in his bag to change into later. He has an hour to kill, but he wants to leave early, if only to stop this flow of conversation. 

Sousuke has that stupid, easy going grin on his face, the one he wears when he's so high up on his magical horse. “True,” he agrees, slipping his fingers through Rin’s and bringing his hand to his lips. “How about just a week, then?” He kisses his fingertips, his palm, bites at his wrist and follows the line of veins up his arm to his shoulder. 

Everyone who has seen them together—which hasn't been a lot, because Rin hated explaining their ‘relationship’—says that Sousuke’s most intimidating features are his eyes. Sharp, a beautiful teal that seems to glow in low lighting. (They do glow, literally. They change color, too, but again that's not something he can easily talk about). But Rin thinks it's his lips. They're soft, a lovely bow shape that shoots arrows with every smile he gives him. But they're also hard, red when he's rough and hungry and pushes Rin to his limits, past them to set new ones, and he drops his shirt to wrap his arms around broad shoulders. 

“Five days.” Not that he thinks he’ll lose, but Sousuke was tricky like a genie, and he liked to twist words around to fit his agenda. Like a lawyer. Demons were lawyers: confirmed. Maybe that's what he does when he isn't lounging around his apartment. 

“Five days,” Sousuke agrees, and waits until he gets confirmation before moving forward. Rin doesn't protest when Sousuke goes for his pants, when he gets his hands on his still flaccid length and fits him into the cage. Sousuke licks into his mouth just as he locks it, and Rin wishes he had held out a little longer, wishes he had gotten off in the shower. 

Sousuke helps him finish dressing, hands lingering on his waist when Rin takes over buttoning his shirt. The cage feels interesting, makes everything down south a little heavier. But the fact that it doesn't feel overwhelming gives him pause. As far as challenges go, this doesn't seem like anything. 

“Run me by those rules again.” He watches Sousuke in the mirror as he ties his hair back. The man still had trouble keeping this kind of form. When he isn’t focused on it, he’ll turn to dark gray mist, or a shadow. Very rarely does he go completely invisible, and rarer still does he use his True form. He claims Rin saw it in his dream, but since he never remembers them, he isn't sure how much believes him. 

His images flickers a little, and after a minute Rin has to look away. Thankfully his voice is always strong. “The rules are this, and I quote,” Always so damn dramatic. “You, Matsuoka Rin, from right now until midnight tonight, must endure _this_ ,” a hand cups the cage through his pants before disappearing, “as well as whatever else I decide to give you.”

“Like you're some kind of gift,” Rin mutters, before applying chopstick. Not everyone gets perfectly soft lips naturally, or unnaturally as the case may be. “What the hell does any of that mean?” 

“Just what I said.” Sousuke does that really unfair thing where he kisses Rin like they're high school sweethearts, soft and slow and warm, before he smacks his ass and sends him out the door. “Better get moving before you're late.” 

He shouldn't be so used to this, being kicked out of his own home by a creature who forwent clothes half the time. Rin grabs his bag, double checks he has his keys, phone and wallet, and sets down the hall to the elevator. 

“And Rin?” Sousuke watches him as he steps inside, his voice dropping an octave. Rin hears the undercurrent of his True voice and has to fight the heat that wants to crawl up his spine. 

“I'll be watching.” 

That's all Rin gets before the doors slide closed and he begins his journey to the parking garage. _So dramatic_ he thinks as he gets in his car. He's glad he no longer needs the train to get around. The cage isn't _too_ noticeable, and he’ll be hidden by his apron and the counter anyway, so he's not paranoid about being found out, whatever that would intell. And it turns out having double shift means less time within Sousuke’s reach, so ‘whatever else he decides to give him’ would have to wait until he got home. 

He can totally handle this.

____________________

After five hours on his feet Rin forgets everything about his morning. _The Reef_ is packed today; several birthday parties, lots of college kids, a scattering of regulars, and too many loud newcomers who order the drinks that involve fancy maneuvering and are shitty fucking tippers. He helps Nitori with his last rounds before the shift change. Poor kid only started last week, and despite being great at mixing, his nerves make him clumsy. He plows right into Shigino as he's leaving, making the other man laugh.

There's a minor bathroom mishap when Rin goes to use a urinal, only to do a complete 180 and scurry to a stall when the obnoxious pink of the cage stands out against the slightly yellow bathroom lighting. But besides that this entire task has been a cake walk. He's almost disappointed. _Almost_. He expected a little more from his demon, but he isn't complaining. He disliked being unsatisfied for long periods anyhow. 

“Ready for happy hour?” Kisumi asks once he returns. It's just after six thirty, and as packed as it was before, past experience has Rin growing warm at the thought of all the work he's about to do. 

“As ready as I can be,” Rin says, and they share a mutual wince at the sound of broken glass. “I take it back, I'm not ready.” 

Things pick up really fast after that. Serving and moving and mixing and pouring. They take turns circling the room, collecting glasses and taking them to get washed, bringing out clean ones, cutting up fruit and getting more little umbrellas. Rin feels like he's radiating heat, like he's moments away from sweating out of his clothes, but Kisumi doesn't even look winded. 

As he's wiping down the counter after a messy breakup left it covered in strawberry daiquiri, he feels something press up against his back. His head turns, Kisumi’s name half formed in an annoyed sigh, but there's no one there. He whips back around, eyes scanning the room. There's Kisumi, all the way on the other side of the room, and suddenly the sensation is gone. If it was ever there at all. 

Rin feels very uneasy, looks over his shoulder so much his neck starts to cramp. The growing heatwave doesn't help matters, and after a while it ends up in one central place. He presses his legs together to try and alleviate the _ache_. It feels like when Sousuke gets particularly mean and takes his fingers away when Rin is on the verge of climax. He feels so empty, open and burning from the inside out. 

“Rin?” Kisumi. Kisumi and the bar and all the hours between right now and when he gets home. He's waving a hand in front of his face, brows pulled down a little. “You okay, man? You're kinda red and sweaty.” He chuckles, though there's concern in his eyes. “Can't keep up with the college kids anymore?” 

He's is not okay at all, actually. Because as the ache spreads to his balls, a slow but steady procession that he's now hyper aware of, he can't help but feel like he's played himself. 

“Yeah,” he says, voice a little strained. He can feel phantom hands on the insides of his thighs, squeezing hard but it's not enough. It's never enough. “A little hot, actually. Are you good out here? I just need to splash some water on my face.” 

“Sure, yeah. Happy hour ends in like five minutes.” Kisumi pats his shoulder, gives him a thumbs up and sends him on his way. Rin tries not to trip over his feet. His reputation as a take no shits bartender is hanging by a loose thread as he enters the blessedly empty bathroom. He hates that there's no private one for employees, but he's having trouble keeping his thoughts straight already, without adding that complaint into the mix. 

He goes into a stall, fumbles with the lock, and leans heavily against the door. 

“What the fuck,” he groans, a little louder than is probably best. He feels like a stiff breeze could make him come, or if his pants rubbed against him the right way. He craves for something hot and hard between his legs, something he can rut against like an inexperienced teenager. But when he pushes his pants down—because his ass is on fire and it feels like he's been spammed and he just _needs_ —he's as soft as ever. Because despite everything he's feeling, the burning heat and the neediness and the desperate, wanton rolling in his stomach, his dick might as well be numb. If the cage wasn't secured around him he'd be beyond hard right now, but it _is_ locked in place and he _can't_ get hard even though his balls feel heavy and full and–

“Fuck!” Rin feels like he's falling apart, and he knows, _he knows_ that Sousuke fucking cheated. But the thought of spending four more hours like this, another two at work, is unthinkable. So he swallows his pride, and gives in. 

“Please..”

Warm, familiar hands grab his hips and pull him forward. Rin slumps against that broad chest and wraps his arms around strong shoulders. He can barely think now, chest rising and falling faster with every passing minute. 

“Please what?” Sousuke’s voice is a deep growl in his ear, and it shatters any control Rin might've had left. He pushes his pants and briefs down to his knees, the cage pressing into Sousuke’s thigh. He's shaking so hard he can barely stand. 

“Please.. please make me come.” The ache hasn't gotten better since Sousuke’s appearance. If anything it's worse, and he doesn't know how long he’ll be able to stay coherent, how long until his thoughts burn up along with his body. 

“You don't want the cage off?”

Rin shakes his head, knowing there isn't time. Anyone could walk in right now, or Kisumi could come looking for him. He doesn't care about the fucking cage or that Sousuke used his cheaty, sex demon magic on him to ruin him from the inside out. 

Sousuke readjusts his grip so that one arm wraps his back. He whispers something that Rin doesn't hear, but the timber of his True voice has him clawing at the back of his shirt. Sousuke spreads him open with one hand as slick fingers rub against his hole. He chokes on a moan, presses his face into Sousuke’s shoulder to muffle his sounds. 

“Don't tease,” he breathes, pushing back against him. “I can't take this anymore, I can't work like this for _two_ more hours.” Rin feels maddeningly desperate, and cries out when Sousuke’s middle finger presses inside. He moves entirely too slow for Rin’s liking, but it helps soothe the ache a little. 

“More,” he demands, though it comes out as a whine. “Another.” He does his best to stay still for a second, knowing how apprehensive Sousuke was when it came to putting in too much too fast. But he only whispers those words again, and suddenly two _very_ wet fingers are curling inside of him. He scissors them at first, stretching him open, though Rin can't help but clench around them. He's without words now, can only pull at Sousuke’s shirt and demand more with his body. 

The sound of Sousuke’s fingers fucking into him is loud in the quiet room. He doesn't hold back, curling and pushing them deeper until Rin rises up on his toes. 

“T-there!” Rin’s mouth drops open on a silent scream when he feels his orgasm flow through him. It's different with the cage restricting him. The harder Sousuke rubs against his prostate, the more he comes. Everything feels like an aftershock, and by the time he's spent, there's an embarrassing puddle on the floor and a telltale trail of white down his leg. 

Rin can't stand up on his own. He's not even standing right now, just slumped against Sousuke’s chest while his arms cling loosely to his neck. Sousuke kisses the crown of his head with a sigh. 

“Technically, you haven't lost yet. But I doubt you even remember what that means.” Rin’s response is to moan and rub his cheek against his chest. Sousuke does his pants back up, and with a wave of his hand, the man in his arms and the floor are back to looking pristine. For the most part. 

“I can get you back home,” Sousuke murmurs, “but I don't think your friend will be happy with you.” 

Rin thinks about going back out there for another two hours. He thinks about making small talk and dealing with shitty people and lousy tips. He thinks about how he’ll need to apologize to Kisumi, and buy him something nice to make up for ditching him. 

“Fuck it. Take me home.”


End file.
